


Fall Upon Your Knees

by ML_Fulder



Series: Blame [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Sex, Angst, Cheating, Crying, Drinking, Established Relationship, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, References to Depression, Smut, no happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ML_Fulder/pseuds/ML_Fulder
Summary: You go sleep with the fishesThere’s no room for you hereWrap your teeth around the pavement'Cause your body’s a messageSend my regards to hell





	Fall Upon Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CognitiveResonance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CognitiveResonance/gifts).



> I listened to a lot of Bastille songs while writing this, so I would highly recommend that. Also parts two and three will be coming soon, summer vacation is here and my fingers itch to write angst. ;)

He never expected it to go like this.

_Weekends were always the time Oikawa and Iwaizumi spent together. Between Iwaizumi’s early morning classes and Oikawa’s late nights at work, Saturdays and Sundays were the only days they really saw each other for more than an hour at a time. Needless to say, they took full advantage of every opportunity to touch the other. So when Oikawa brought up the idea of going out for drinks with his friends the next day after dinner on Friday, Iwaizumi was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t see his boyfriend till later in the evening; he encouraged the outing, though, knowing Oikawa had a tendency to overwork himself. They had spent Saturday afternoon eating take-out watching those stupid conspiracy theory shows that Oikawa just loved so damn much before the taller boy had announced he had to leave if he wanted to be on time. He had thrown on a light blue button up, leather jacket, and black skinny jeans he must have known made Iwaizumi upset because honestly, how was it even possible for Oikawa’s legs to look even longer than they already did? “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, I’ll be back before midnight. You won’t even have time to miss me.” He said with a wink and a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek before he disappeared through the front door of their apartment._

Getting up in the mornings had gotten easier as the weeks went on, but he still missed the familiarity of an arm around his waist, legs tangled with his own, warm breath tickling the hair on the nape of his neck. He’d become numb to the once gaping wound that used to bleed in the form of long showers filled with tears and shaking. His nights were no longer filled with empty beer bottles and slurred voice messages - instead he chose to stay at work until his eyes glazed over and he walked home in a zombie-like stupor.

_An hour passed and Iwaizumi was on the couch again, working on a research paper that wasn’t due for another week while some cheesy soap opera played in the background. He was graduating with a masters degree at the end of the semester, and he’d be lying if he said he would miss school. Sure, learning the ups and downs, ins and outs of journalism was fun, and he looked forward to the day he could apply his knowledge in the real world, but he missed his boyfriend. He missed those high school days when they would walk each other home after class and spend an hour or two curled up in bed just talking, kissing, existing. They would push through homework together, Oikawa’s legs draped over Iwaizumi’s lap and his neck resting against the headboard of his bed._

This particular morning hurt significantly more when he looked at the calendar alert on his phone, groaning at the words that only popped up once a year. Family Reunion. 3pm-8pm, bring a dish to share. He liked seeing his parents and grandparents, cousins and aunts, step-siblings and nephews. His family was warm and happy and safe and Iwaizumi missed the time when he hadn’t known what it felt like to be alone and cold and broken. This would be the first time his extended family would be seeing him since the incident and he wasn’t really looking forward to rehashing the pain of what happened and reopening a wound that had just started to scab over. The only people he had told were his parents and they only knew because Iwaizumi had shown up on their porch the day after everything went down, eyes red and puffy and all of his energy focused into keeping the hiccuping sobs to a minimum. Before his mother even knew what exactly had happened, it was clear by the lack of a certain someone at his side that it was really bad, and she swept him into her arms without a word.

_Hour three rolled around and Iwaizumi had shut his computer, vaguely focusing on the action movie he had put in and scrolling through the various apps on his phone, missing the warmth of a body pressing into his side, but he figured it would only be another hour or two before Oikawa returned. The other usually returned in time to take a shower with Iwaizumi before bed, so he wasn’t worried. It had been a while since Iwaizumi had been able to let his hands roam freely over Oikawa’s body, yet the dips and curves of the taller boy had been ingrained in his mind since high school. He knew every callous, freckle, and scar better than he knew his own form, fingers dancing over the sharp collar bones that peeked out of huge sweaters every chance they had. He relished in the moments he could run his mouth over Oikawa’s long neck, down his athletic abdomen, pressing kisses to the inside of his thighs as warm water from the shower head made the whole experience even more ethereal._

Iwaizumi dressed slowly as if he hadn’t actually woken up yet, going through the motions of his morning routine mechanically before opening the doors of his closet. All of his nicer clothes were hung neatly on color-coordinated hangers, shoes placed neatly in rows below them. His everyday clothes, the ones he wore to work and around the house, were thrown on chairs and shoved unceremoniously in the drawers of the dresser sitting in the corner of his bedroom. Sometimes he realized that his habits had gotten messier since he started living alone, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care. It had been a while since Iwaizumi had had any use for the items in his closet, but he figured he should look more put together than he felt, so he pulled out a long-sleeve black dress shirt and the rare pair of jeans he owned without holes. A quick look in the mirror told him that he had succeeded in making himself look minutely less dead, and after checking the time, he grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door and left so he would still have time to pick up something to share.

_By the time the clock read 1:32 am, a knotted ball of anxiety had settled in the bottom of Iwaizumi’s stomach, growing tighter and harder to ignore with every passing minute. Maybe traffic had been bad, or he had gotten a little too tipsy and didn’t notice what time it was. That had never happened before, a voice in the back of his head supplied helpfully. Even when Oikawa stumbled through the door half-wasted and reeking of smoke from the cigarettes Iwaizumi pretended not to know about, it was always well within the time by which he had promised to be home. This was later than he’d ever been, and Iwaizumi was starting to worry that something might’ve happened to his boyfriend._

The car ride to the country club they always held reunions at wasn’t a long one. Iwaizumi’s apartment was only a half an hour down the street, something for which he was disappointed on occasion. When he was still at home and lived a few hours away, his parents would always duck out quietly under the pretense of a long drive home; the only excuse he’d had was that his boyfriend was tired or drunk or had to be up early the next day for volleyball practice. Now he didn’t even have that.

_He’d started pacing across the floor in front of the door, phone clutched in his hand as he dialed Oikawa’s number again and again. After the sixth unsuccessful attempt, he called Suga._

_“Hello?” He picked up on the third ring, sounding only slightly tipsy._

_“Hey, Suga, it’s Iwaizumi. You were out with Oikawa tonight, yeah?”_

_He hummed into the phone. “Yeah. He left about an hour ago, though. Took a cab with one of the girls from Lev’s team. They were both pretty wasted.”_

_“Okay, thank you. Talk to you soon.” He hung up, running a hand through his hair and letting out a breathy laugh. Oikawa had probably helped the girl back to her apartment before making his way home; it made sense, he had an addictively charming personality that demanded the attention of everyone around him. He was nothing if not a gentleman, though. Any minute now, the taller boy would come waltzing in crowing about how he had assisted a damsel in distress and how that “deserves a kiss, Iwa-chan, come on.” As if on cue, the keys started rattling in the doorknob._

As soon as he walked into the room, he was bombarded by the female members of his family.

“Hajime, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you, you need to visit more often!”

“Darling, are you eating properly? You always look so thin these days. Is that boyfriend of yours feeding you?”

“I read that article you wrote a few months ago on that volleyball team your boyfriend plays on, it was very good.”

“Where’s that nice young man of yours? Your nephew is over the moon that you know a famous volleyball player, he just has to meet him.”

_Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend_. It was suffocating Iwaizumi, but he played it off with a fake smile and a few mumbled words, excusing himself to the bathroom. Once inside the safety of a locked stall, he sunk to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and taking deep breaths. Even though it had been so long, he still had moments where the pain washed over him in waves, opening wounds that had just started to heal over again. People said it would stop after a while, that he would feel like himself again soon, but he didn’t believe that. When everything reminded Iwaizumi of him, sometimes it was hard to see the point of living.

_Oikawa stumbled through the door, toeing off his shoes to the side and humming when Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist._

_“Did you miss me?”_

_“I was worried, asshole. You were out a lot later than you said you would be, and you didn’t even call.”_

_Oikawa didn’t reply, letting go of Iwaizumi and turning to close the door. Iwaizumi squinted at something on the base of the other’s neck, grabbing his collar and pulling it down._

_“Tooru, what is this?”_

_The taller boy turned around, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to look at whatever it was Iwaizumi was pointing at, turning himself in circles. Another mark stood out vibrantly against the pale skin of his neck, one more on the underside of his jaw, and was that lipstick on his ear?_

_“Tooru, what are those?” Iwaizumi’s stomach was in his shoes, and he felt like throwing up._

_“Hajime, I promise, it’s not what it looks like, okay? Just list-”_

_“It’s not what it looks like? And what is that, Tooru? What is it that it doesn’t look like?”_

_“It was one time, okay, and I was drunk, she was all over me-”_

_Oikawa kept talking, but Iwaizumi had stopped paying attention. Everything people had told him about Oikawa getting tired and leaving him, everything about how a famous athlete could never settle down with one person, everything about how Oikawa would leave him for the first woman to bat her eyelashes at him, everything was true. Years and years of denying it - of trusting Oikawa - and it was all down the drain. Over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he could hear his heart shatter._

After he got his breathing under control, the rest of the reunion went relatively smoothly. His mom found him avoiding nosy relatives by the buffet tables, and proceeded to stick by him in case a rescue was needed. He reminded himself to buy her a box of those fancy cakes she liked later. The night dragged on with one too many drinks, and by the time the hall had started to empty, Iwaizumi was left at a corner table with a bag of things his parents had found in their attic while cleaning. He smiled grimly at every volleyball trophy and school certificate he pulled out, wondering when he had become such a sentimentalist when an old polaroid photo fluttered to the ground from his year eleven yearbook. Picking it up, he realized it was a picture from his high school prom, a date scribbled under the caption “best night ever”. With his phone and the picture tucked into his back pocket, Iwaizumi gave his mother a hug and walked out to catch a cab.

_“You cheated on me.”_

_Oikawa stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open and eyes welling up._

_“No, Iwa-chan, I would never.”_

_“You slept with her! You went to her apartment, you drank her alcohol, and you let her put her mouth all over you. What do you call that?” Iwaizumi was pissed off, he was beyond livid and he didn’t bother hiding it. His fingers were twisted in the fabric of his own shirt, and he had to make a conscious effort not to start yelling. Oikawa took a step toward him, and Iwaizumi matched it with a step backward._

_“Hajime, please. I love you, please don’t run from me.” His voice broke on Iwaizumi’s name and now the tears were flowing freely down his cheeks._

_“No, no, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to say that to me! You don’t get to come in here after ruining the last nine years of my life and pretend it’ll all be okay in the morning, just because you say you love me.” Iwaizumi was gesturing with his hands and moving toward Oikawa. “Is that what you said to her while she bit marks into your neck? Was every time you said it to me a lie?”_

_“No, I’ve never lied to you, Hajime, never in my entire life. She meant nothing to me, I promi-”_

_“Stop saying you promise!” Iwaizumi’s hand was in the air before he realized what he was doing, and Oikawa flinched, breath coming in hiccuping sobs. The room fell silent for a few seconds._

_“I’m not going to hit you. I will never hurt you, Tooru.” He wanted to reach out, wanted to pull Oikawa’s shaking form close to him and tell him everything would be fine; instead, he turned his back to the other and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Get out.”_

_“Hajime, please don’t do this, please, I need you.” Iwaizumi knew what a panic attack looked like in Oikawa, and he hated being the cause of it._

_“I said get out! I never want to see you again.”_

The other line rang and rang, and Iwaizumi waited. He had just pulled the phone away from his ear when he heard the click and a soft “hello?”. With a sharp intake of breath, he sat up and curled his knees up under himself. It had been so long since he had heard that voice, and it still sent shivers down his spine; this time was different, though. This time, a voice in the back of his head was telling him how terrible an idea this was, how he should hang up now before it was too late to go back.

“Hajime, is that you?”

Shit, shit, shit.

“You changed your number. The last time I called you, a woman named Karen picked up.” Oikawa spoke carefully; he knew he was treading on thin ice. Good, Iwaizumi thought bitterly.

“You asshole.”

Oikawa let out a laugh, but it was weighed down with guilt and not nearly as warm as Iwaizumi wished it would be.

“I know.”

“I’m not s’posed to miss you anymore,” he slurred slightly, cursing himself. “I’m supposed to have moved on by now. It’s not supposed to hurt anymore.”

“Who told you that? Someone who hasn’t been in love with their significant other since they were eleven years old?” Iwaizumi grunted in way of response. “I don’t think it’ll ever stop tearing me apart, Hajime. I know it’s selfish to hope you never get over me, but you need to even though I won’t.”

Silence fell over the two, and Iwaizumi thought maybe Oikawa had hung up.

“Tooru?”

Another sharp intake of breath, and then: “Yeah?”

“Will you come over?”

Shuffling came from his end and Iwaizumi figured he was moving from wherever he was.

“Is that the best idea?”

“I don’t care. I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Then he hung up. In his tipsy stupor, Iwaizumi started to clean the apartment, shoving beer bottles and take-out boxes into the last large garbage bag he had. It wasn’t perfect, but he was too caught up in his own bubbling emotions to care. He wasn’t ready. How was he going to face Oikawa again after six months of not even hearing his voice? He’d never be able to go back to his numb state of ignoring his ex-boyfriend’s existence after this.

He had the door open before the bell had finished echoing off the walls.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa was just as beautiful as Iwaizumi remembered him, but his eyes seemed dull and lifeless. He must’ve just come from a work party or some gathering, because he was in that disgusting green sweater that Iwaizumi hated to love. _“It brings out my eyes, Iwa-chan,”_ he’d say before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Iwaizumi turned and walked into the living room, leaving the door open as a wordless invitation for Oikawa to come in if he wanted. The soft click of the lock showed that he had accepted.

“You haven’t changed the apartment much.” Facing him now, Iwaizumi watched Oikawa idly run his fingers across the table they used to eat breakfast at together. “I’m still surprised you haven’t moved.”

Aggravated with the thick tension that had developed, Iwaizumi moved towards the taller boy till he had him crowded against the wall. They were so close that Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa’s breath on his forehead as he refused to make eye contact, hands on either side of the setter’s head.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he muttered before pressing himself up on his toes to crush his mouth against Oikawa’s. The other let out a muffled gasp and immediately wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi, fingers tangling in the short hair at the base of his neck; the familiarity of the whole situation, the deja vu he felt - it was almost too much to bear, and the relief of feeling this again after so long washed over him in giant, violent waves.

Iwaizumi let his hands travel up and down the sides of Oikawa’s sides, rucking up the green sweater and holding back a sob when his fingers touched scarred skin he had memorized a decade ago. Oikawa let out a moan in response, rutting his hips forward desperately but never detaching his lips from Iwaizumi’s. The air was filled with panting and the wet sounds of mouths sliding against each other, the two finally coming up for air after what felt like an eternity.

“I need to know right now, before it’s too late to stop, how far you want this to go tonight.” Oikawa breathed into Iwaizumi’s ear and nipping at the lobe. The shorter man responded by pressing his hand against the bulge in the setter’s jeans, holding back a groan at the breathy sounds that escaped Oikawa’s mouth.

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to have to make you.” Iwaizumi grabbed the front of Oikawa’s sweater and walked backwards toward the couch, pushing him down harshly against the cushions and taking a moment to admire the sight in front of him. It had been so long since he had seen Oikawa like this; hair a mess from fingers running through it, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide, chest heaving. He hated to admit it to himself, but he’d missed this. He hadn’t been with anyone but Oikawa in his entire life, and despite the countless attempts of his friends to set him up with someone, he wasn’t about to change that now. Maybe one day he’d feel comfortable enough to do it with another person, after he escaped the crippling pain that had a choke hold on his life, but for right now, he was going to enjoy this for as long as he had it.

“Ah, Iwa-Chan, you always were into the kinky stuff.” He teased, a sad smirk on his face as he leaned forward to hook his fingers through the belt loops on Iwaizumi’s jeans and pressed his mouth against the front of the other’s hips, his hot breath sending all of Iwaizumi’s blood rushing south. Groaning, Iwaizumi let his head fall backward, enjoying the damp pressure of lips against his front and weaving his fingers through Oikawa’s impeccably styled hair, pulling at the roots and relishing in the whines he made.

“Do something useful with your mouth, asshole. Don’t tease me.”

Oikawa pulled away and glanced up through his thick eyelashes, making quick work of the buttons on Iwaizumi’s pants and dragging them down to his knees along with his boxers. He kissed the tip of Iwaizumi’s length lightly before flattening his tongue against the bottom and drawing it torturously from the base up. Hollowing his cheeks, he sunk down suddenly to swallow Iwaizumi completely, breathing heavily through his nose and keeping his eyes on Iwaizumi the whole time. The other man choked out a groan, tightening his grip on Oikawa’s hair and pulling his nose flush against the skin of Iwaizumi’s crotch. It had been a long time, but time couldn’t erase the memories Iwaizumi kept locked in his mind for those nights when he was alone and missing the intimate part of his relationship with the setter.

Iwaizumi was pulled out of his thoughts when Oikawa swallowed around him, a sharp gasp leaving his lips.

“Stop,” he ground out, waiting until Oikawa had moved back to push him back against the cushions and straddle his hips.

“Hajime, please.” The setter was whining into Iwaizumi’s ear now and the whole room spun at the first utterance of his given name in six months. Oikawa’s hands snaked around Iwaizumi’s waist and pulled him close enough so that their chests were flush, grinding up against him. “Please.”

Iwaizumi’s fingers fumbled quickly to undo the buttons of Oikawa’s jeans, pulling them down just past his knees. Lifting his fingers to the setters mouth, he groaned at the wet heat that enveloped them almost instantly. Oikawa’s tongue wrapped and twisted itself around Iwaizumi’s fingers, coating every inch with slick saliva before he pulled away with a _pop_.

“Are you going to do something now or just keep teasing me?”

Iwaizumi responded by reaching underneath Oikawa to run his fingers along the others entrance, shuddering at the noise that left the taller boy’s mouth as Iwaizumi pressed in slowly.

“I-I’m not made of glass, Iwa-chan,” he gasped out, rocking down wantonly on Iwaizumi’s fingers. “You of all people should know that.”

Oikawa let out a cry as Iwaizumi pushed another digit in without warning, arching his back and clawing at Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“I’m fine, I’m good, Iwa-chan, please.”

“Tell me what you want.”

A broken sob escaped the other’s kiss-swollen lips as Iwaizumi scissored his fingers, pulling and stretching and pushing until Oikawa was a writhing mess under his body.

“Fuck me, Hajime. Fuck me until I don’t know who I am anymore, Don’t let me forget this. Claim me as yours, show the world who I belong to. Bruise me, use me, abuse me, I don’t care, I’m yours and only yours. Show me who’s in charge, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi groaned deep in his throat before slicking himself up with his own spit before lining himself up and pressing into Oikawa’s tight heat. A low moan escaped Oikawa’s mouth, and he buried his head in Iwaizumi’s, uttering his name like a prayer. Iwaizumi started the thrusts out slow, but it had been so long since he’d felt this, so long since he’d had Oikawa melting in his arms, and soon he was canting his hips forward like his life depended on it. Oikawa keened beneath him, a mess of whimpers, gasps, and pleads for “harder, Hajime, harder, please”.

“Hajime, please, I’m so close.”

Iwaizumi leaned forward to crush their mouths together, angling his hips in a way that had Oikawa curving into him as he released onto his own chest, staining his clothes. Not too long after, Iwaizumi followed, slowing his movements as he rode out his high. The room went silent save for the heavy panting of the two men and a whine as Iwaizumi pulled out of Oikawa, dropping to the couch beside him.

“I miss you.” Oikawa spoke into the silence a few moments later, letting his head fall to the side to look at Iwaizumi. “A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about what I did to you, and I’m not asking for you to forgive me, but I miss you. I need you to know that I am genuinely sorry for what I did.”

“I don’t want your apology.”

“I know.”

“Nothing you say can fix what you did, Oikawa.”

The setter let out a frustrated groan.

“I _know_ that, Hajime, I’m not saying it will. A day doesn’t go past that I don’t hate myself for what happened, and I will never stop wishing I could go back and change it.”

Ignoring all protests from his exhausted body, Iwaizumi pushed himself up off the couch, grabbing a stack of napkins from the coffee table to clean himself up with before pulling his jeans back up.

“I think you should go now.” He meant to sound forceful as he wobbled out to the kitchen, but his voice came out more tired than anything else. Sounds of fumbling and muffled curses came from the living room before Oikawa appeared in the doorway, peeling his stained shirt up over his shoulders.

“Don’t push me away again, please. Can we talk about this? The last thing you ever said to me was that you never wanted to see me again, but _you_ called me. You asked me to come over, and we both know I can never refuse you anything, Hajime.”

“It was a moment of weakness, I was drunk and not in my right mind, okay? It’s over and it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Yeah, but it did.” Oikawa moved closer, stopping a few feet from where Iwaizumi tried to busy himself with the coffee machine. It was too late for coffee, but he needed something to do with his hands or he’d end up either fighting or kissing Oikawa. Maybe both. “You said it yourself, you don’t want to do this alone anymore. I don’t want to spend one more day without you, Hajime, it’s tearing me apart. Let me try to redeem myself, let me show you how much you still and always have meant to me.”

Iwaizumi’s hands shook and he kept his mouth sealed. Emotions he’d long ago learned to tuck away in the deepest corners of his mind were now putting themselves front and center. He gripped the handle of the coffeepot and started to turn toward the sink, keeping his eyes downcast and away from the setter.

“I love you, Hajime. I’ve never _not_ loved you. I don’t know who I am without you.”

Glass shattered against tile as the pot fell from Iwaizumi’s hands, shards exploding into the tension-thick air.

“Shit!” Iwaizumi dropped to his knees, frantically grabbing at the pieces and ignoring as the sharp edges bit into his palms. Blood dripped down his fingertips and his breath was coming fast, too fast, he needed to calm down. Everything was falling apart, everything he’d worked so hard to build up was crumbling.

“Hajime, Hajime, stop.” Oikawa pulled at his shoulders, letting Iwaizumi fall against his chest and leaning the two of them against the fridge. The setter grabbed his discarded shirt and wrapped Iwaizumi’s wounded hand gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Iwaizumi shook with silent sobs, curling in on himself and drawing as close to Oikawa as he could, afraid that the other would disappear if he didn’t.

“It’s okay, I’m here, you’re okay.” Oikawa shushed him softly, resting the other’s head against his bare collarbone and letting him cry. “Everything will be okay.”


End file.
